Deny
by phoenix521
Summary: Songbased fic to Default's Deny. About Spike and how he copes with Julia from the time she didn't show til the time he sees her again. Better summary inside. Read and enjoy, and if you review, nothing too harsh, please. Thanks! rating for language, i


_Author's beginning note: _Hello again. Just another song inspired song-based fic from me. This is done to the song _Deny_ by Default. It's just how I see Spike dealing with the whole Julia situation; starting from when she didn't meet him to when he sees her again in the graveyard. I may just want things to go my way, but I like the way things happened well enough. AKA, Julia is portrayed in a negative light...sorry if you liked her.But, this makes my other fic, "The Dumbing Down of Love", work out better. So, sit back, read and enjoy. Review if you'd like, but nothing too harsh, please. 

_Italics_ song  
Not italics story

simple enough :)

_Deny_

_Today I woke up  
__And you were gone…_

He had asked her to run away with him. He loved her, and he was sure that she loved him, too. But she did not come; she did not meet him. Did something happen to her?

That seemed unlikely. His golden haired angel was strong, confident, and could always protect and take care of herself. However, that still didn't answer the question of why she didn't meet him.

Gone. She was gone. That is all he could think. But he wanted to go with her, wherever she went.

_  
The whole day wondering  
__What I did wrong…_

So what went wrong? Did he act too hastily? He wanted out; out of the syndicate, out of it all. And he wanted her to come with him. He wanted to save her, and she was, in turn, going to save him. But she never came.

Absent-mindedly, he wandered down the streets of this little town on Mars. He pulled out a slightly crumpled cigarette from its slightly crumpled packaging, and stuck it between his lips. He struck a match on the wall as he walked by and lit the nicotine stick. Taking a long draw off of the comforting form, he exhaled the smoke, and continued on his way.

_  
It's like I'm falling from  
__A mountain top…_

As he downed his sixth whisky sour, he tapped the bar, signaling he wanted another. Complying against his better judgment, the bartender filled the glass again. The man stared at the glass and its liquid contents. He could see the lights reflecting in the clear beverage. He could also see his own reflection. Dark green hair a mess; mismatched eyes empty; lips dry and skin pale. He looked like shit, in his opinion. But what did that matter now?

As he stared harder at the scratched shot glass, another form materialized in the alcohol. It was her. Her face stared back at him, as if she could apologize for abandoning him.

"Julia…" the man breathed as he downed the intoxicating fluid.

_  
My heart keeps pounding  
__And it won't stop…_

He stumbled out of the bar, ears ringing and vision blurred. His angel had left him alone and hurt. He would cry if he could, but he feared he'd never stop if he started. He continued down the sidewalk, light's blinding him and voices deafening his other senses. Perhaps he bumped in to people along his way, but it was all too trivial to acknowledge.

Where did he leave his ship, his baby; his _Swordfish II_? He couldn't remember, and maybe that was for the best. He couldn't fly in his shape, anyway. And even if he could, where would he go? He was wanted, now. Wanted by the very syndicate he fought and died for.

And how many times he died, indeed. Or maybe he didn't. This life was just a dream, and nothing mattered; nothing was real. But she had been real. She had mattered. And he would have gladly died a thousand deaths for her, if only she had asked him to.

_  
Can you see this  
__Hell I'm living…_

He stumbled into a hotel room he had just acquired. He was sober enough to know he needed a place to stay. Flying was too dangerous, bumbling around was too ridiculous, and drowning himself in alcohol's burning grip was too easy. And he never liked to do things the easy way.

He sat down on the bed after removing his trench coat, blue blazer and shoes. He loosened his tie and reclined on the pillows. Rolling over onto his stomach, he buried his head in the pillow. A tear escaped his eye, the eye that had been lost in an accident, and then he let out a primal scream. He screamed so long, so loud, that his voice gave out. It had hurt, there was no point in denying that, but the pain in his voice paled to the ache in his soul.

As the liquor mixed with his pain and his misery, the man headed to the bathroom. He knew he'd have one hell of a headache tomorrow, but first, he'd have to get over the stomach ache.

The vile taste rushed out of his mouth and splashed into the waiting toilet below. It hurt that much worse, due to the fact he had just screamed his throat raw.

_  
I'm not giving up…_

As the sun finally broke through the closed curtains of his room, the man, weary and broken, rolled out of bed and went to look in the mirror. Nothing to look at, like he figured. He splashed some cold water on his face, and then got dressed again. He left the little hotel and headed off to find his baby; the only woman that would never leave him: his ship.

In his hurry to find the _Swordfish_, the man crashed into another, slightly taller, balding man with a mechanical arm.

"Hey buddy, keep your head up and watch were you're goin' next time," the older man said in a kind, gruff voice.

"Yeah, sorry," responded the one with the green hair.

"Wait a minute, I think you dropped this," the older man said again, handing him the small gun he had dropped. "Are you a bounty hunter?"

"In so many words…" said the younger man as he placed his gun back in its holster.

"My name's Jet. Jet Black. I could use a kid like you, I guess. Got a lot of bounties, but not a lot of skilled hunters."

"Spike…" is all the man said as he continued down the street.

_  
Will you crawl to me  
__Will you fall with me  
__I'll never crawl to you  
__I've done it all for you…_

"To the left, Spike! The left!" Jet yelled at the reckless youth.

It'd been almost two years since Spike had joined Jet on the _Bebop_, and Jet still couldn't understand the enigma that was Spike Spiegel.

"Don't worry about it, Jet, I got it under control," Spike replied, ever cool and cocky.

As the bounty, just another small fry, was handed over to the authorities, Jet loaded up his money card with the 50.000 wulong reward. With the crook caught and the money claimed, the two men headed back to the rickety old ship, though one should never speak of the _Bebop_ in that way around Jet.

"You know, one of these days, something's gonna go wrong, and _then_ what are you going to do?" Jet gently berated.

"Whatever happens, happens," was all Spike said as he gave his cocky smile and headed to his room.

As he settled of into a sleep, Spike thought of her again. He always thought about Julia. He would never be free of her. And he never wanted to be, for that matter. But it still nagged at his brain, why didn't she meet him? Why did she let him go?

_  
Well don't deny  
__The hand that feeds you  
__Needs you…_

He could see her. He could touch her, if he dared to. But did she see him? It seemed like Spike was always searching for Julia, but he could never find her. And yet, there she was, only feet in front of him, as if waiting for him to come and get her.

But with ever step he took towards her, Julia never got any closer.

"Wait! Julia, please wait!" Spike pleaded with her. "What did I do wrong? Please wait! I need you!"

_  
Oh God I'd die to try to…_

Spike shot up in bed, beads of sweat clinging to his skin. It was just a dream. That's all it ever was.

_  
Finally please you._

_  
There goes a piece of me  
__Will I cease to be…_

He was out for a leisurely flight, just wanting to get away from the world. It's not that he didn't mind being around Jet. Hell, he even liked that damn dog, Ein, he had found. But he just needed to get out for a while.

Spike flew low, following the winds and curves of the endless stretches of highway. He gazed down at the cars streaming along. He tried to imagine who was down there, and what they were thinking. But when that started to hurt his head, Spike decided to keep to his own problems.

Just then, something caught his eye. A bright red convertible was blazing down the roadway and long, golden strands of hair flowed like feathers behind a woman. Spike's breath caught in his throat. Could it be?

"Wake up, Spike, and get back here. I think I got a good bounty," Jet said, his face popping up on the screen. "She's worth quite a bit. She's racked up a lot in hospital bills and gambling debts. So come on back. And promise me you won't get soft on this girl. These green eyes could melt your heart."

Spike sighed and got ready to head back to the _Bebop._ He looked back at the highway first, but found no red car in sight. It was if it was never there at all.

_  
I've never lied to you  
__Fought, bled, and died for you…_

He was falling. How did he get to this point? He came to the church. And there _he _was. Vicious. That name, which once rang of camaraderie, was now only a sound of disgust.

Vicious was still the same. Same cold, black eyes; eerie silver hair; evil smirk. And there was that damn bird on his shoulder. It was as black as Vicious's heart and as sinister as his soul.

Spike drew his gun and Vicious, his katana. They fought hard. Then there was an explosion. For a split second, Spike's attention was diverted, and that's all it took. The next thing he knew, he was falling.

As he looked up at the window he had crashed through, Julia flashed in his mind. He could see her staring at him, smiling at him.

'All for you,' Spike thought as he fell. The ground was getting close, and boy was this going to hurt.

_  
Well don't deny  
__The hand that takes you  
__Breaks you…_

He opened his eyes. God, his head hurt. As a matter of fact, his whole body hurt. But he figured that's what happened when one fell out of a window. He looked up, and caught the color of dull yellow. He was on the couch in the makeshift living room of the _Bebop_. Hearing humming, Spike gazed to the left and saw Faye sitting opposite of him, cards in her delicate hands. With those amazing emerald eyes, he felt like she could see right through him if she wanted to.

He stared at her, studying her features. Her thin nose; that purple hair held back by her headband; and those ruby red lips. They definitely caught his attention more than once. He wondered how it would feel to kiss her, those lips. Wait, what? Where in the hell did that come from?

As he whispered to her that she was, "tone deaf," he could only watch helplessly as the pillow descended upon him with such a fury. Faye furiously stomped away, and her cards settled from their recent disturbance. Spike picked a card up off of his forehead, 'the ace of spades,' he thought, and he closed his eyes again.

_  
Oh God I'd die to try to…_

'I'm sorry, Julia,' Spike thought as he lay there. 'She means nothing to me…she's just a woman; and you are my angel.'

_  
Finally please you._

_  
There she goes  
__And I'm on the ground…_

Maybe he was right, after all. Maybe Vicious did still have her heart. It's all Spike could rationalize as he, once again, pondered why Julia never came to him.

_  
I'm on the ground…_

But she had said she loved him. And she had. Spike felt it, and he refused to believe that what he felt wasn't real.

_  
I'm on the ground._

What did he know, though? Just because he showed up on her doorstep, didn't obligate her to love him. Perhaps he _was_ wrong. And that thought floored him

_  
There she goes  
__And I'm on the ground…_

No, no, no. No! She loved him! That's all there was to it! It had to be Vicious, there was no other explanation.

_  
I'm on the ground,  
__I'm on the ground._

Of course, it had to be him. Spike wanted out of the Syndicate, and Vicious, of course, would have known. And this is the way that Vicious was getting back at him.

_  
There she goes  
__And I'm on the ground…_

But wait…why would Vicious matter? If Julia truly loved Spike, loved him like he loved her…then why would that make any difference? He realized he was a fool. What a fool he had been.

_  
I'm on the ground,  
__I'm on the ground._

She didn't love him…

_  
There she goes  
__And I'm on the ground…_

Not like that…

_  
I'm on the ground,  
__I'm on the…_

Fuck…

_  
Well don't deny  
__The hand that feeds you  
__Needs you…_

"She said she'll be waiting there," Faye said, almost regretting ever saying anything at all. "She said you'd understand."

He pulled on his steering gloves, never once daring to look at Faye.

"I don't get it."

"It's was from a woman named Julia."

_  
Oh God I'd die to try to…_

He knew what Faye meant. He understood perfectly. He exploded off of the runway, ready to go to where she was.

_  
Finally please you._

_  
Will you crawl to me  
__Will you fall with me…_

To the graveyard, where he told her to meet him over three years ago. Better late than never, right? Right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. He waited, had been waiting for her. And now, he wasn't sure if he wanted her anymore. Did she need all of this time to decide whether or not he was worth it? Because if that was the case, then fuck her. Fuck it all. He was worth something. Jet, Ed, Ein, and yes, Faye…especially Faye, had showed him that.

Why wait for Julia to come around, to think that she wanted him now. If he wanted, all he had to do was say it, and he'd have an amazing woman by his side. Purple would go a lot better with his green hair, than gold ever would. And besides, gold and silver belonged together, anyways.

He pushed open the gate, and strolled down the sidewalk of the cemetery, rain soaking him to the core. But that didn't matter to him; the rain. It just helped to cleanse him of his wounds. All of his wounds.

'You've denied me too long,' Spike thought as he walked. 'I've done this _all_ for you, and yet you still stayed away. No more, Julia, I'm too tired of this. You've denied me too long, and I can't take it anymore.'

_  
I've never crawled to you_

He picked up the rose, its brilliant red hue breaking the monotony of blues and grays. As he looked up, he saw her. No dreams, no visions of the past: just him and Julia, standing there in real time. She pulled out her gun and pointed it at Spike's heart.

'Poetic,' he thought. 'Shoot me through the very organ that you yourself ripped out.'

"Let's just run away somewhere," she whispered as she gently clasped Spike's neck. "Truly escape from this world, and go where no one else is…just the two of us."

Spike looked on into the distance, not really hearing her, not truly feeling her touch.

"Oh Julia," was all he said.

_  
I've done it all for you._

_  
YOU'RE WORTH MORE THAN YOU  
__KNOW, SPACE COWBOY…_

_Author's end note:_ Welp, that's it. I hope you liked it. It's always hard for me to write these things, basically because they write themselves. I always have an idea in my head, then my fingers stop listening, and then I've got a story that I never planned. Such is the case, once again. And yes, I am 'hatin' on Julia, but thems the breaks sometimes. Thanks for your time and thanks for your reviews! And have an awesome day or night!

_phoenix 521_


End file.
